Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima
by Kazaera
Summary: Elrond shows his sons Eärendil's star, and remembers how he used to watch it when he was younger. Chapter 3 up!
1. Grandfather's star

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, more's the pity. It all belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, the man who dreamt all this up – I'm only borrowing everything for a short story.  
  
A/N: This is my first LOTR fanfic – actually my first every fanfic, although I enjoy writing original fiction. So please be nice when you read this ;)  
  
The wind whispered softly in the branches of the willow, ruffling the dark hair of the figures sitting there. The tallest one ignored the wind, although the two small ones next to him shivered slightly.  
  
"There. Do you see that star? The bright one?" the elf asked, pointing a long slender finger heavenwards.  
  
The two children peered up at the starry sky, and at the twinkling light. "Yes, we see it," one of them said, somehow knowing without thinking that the other did as well.  
  
"That star is your grandfather." Elrond Peredhil, Lord of Imladris, closed his eyes for a moment.  
  
^^^It was a beautiful night, not a cloud in the sky. A young child stared almost hungrily at a star hanging low in the sky, so close it seemed he could reach and touch it. But Elrond knew that that was just imagination, that the star was far, far above him, too far to do more than watch it longingly. He knew with his mind that Father was never coming back, that no matter how hard he stared at the star it would remain just that, a silver- glowing point of light, and not turn into the man the child wished for. Eärendil was gone, and perhaps it was worse to be able to see his star in the night sky, re-opening the wound of loss every time his son saw it.^^^  
  
Long time had passed since then, and the sight of elen atarwa– father's star, as he liked to call it – no longer pained Elrond, but comforted him somehow, a reminder of his past and origins.  
  
The voice of one of the twins interrupted his musings. "How did he get up there, Ada? Did he grow wings like the birds?"  
  
Elrond could imagine the wide-eyed look on his sons' faces and had to stifle a laugh at their wild imagination, forcing away the memories of one who *had* grown wings... "No, he is on a ship, sailing in the night sky. The reason he is glowing like that is because he has one of the Silmarils."  
  
"What are the Silmarils?"  
  
"They are three jewels that glow with the light of the two Trees, but their story is long and sad. One for another day, perhaps."  
  
Silence fell as the three stared up at the sky, then the other twin broke the quiet. "Ada, can he see us? Does he know we are talking about him?"  
  
Elrond nearly gasped. What had possessed them to ask that exact question, the same as the one he had asked so long ago?  
  
^^^(A/N: This flashback picks up where the other left off.) Elrond heard soft footsteps, and someone sat down next to him. "You should be in bed with your brother, istyarinya piinëa," the other said, voice chiding gently.  
  
"He's asleep," Elrond said softly, voice somehow showing the sorrow he'd witnessed, sorrow no child should have to see. "I wanted to see Father."  
  
The adult next to him sighed softly. "You are right, Eärendil is bright tonight."  
  
Elrond watched the star. He had some memories of his father – a smiling face peering down at him, picking up his brother Elros, mother standing next to a tall figure, both of them beaming – yet those were from when he was very young. Elros didn't remember him at all. But, somehow, after Mother had turned into a seagull and flown away, after Sirion had burned, while he was running through the forest carrying his brother, panting with exertion and fear… a fantasy had started to grow in his mind. A fantasy of his father coming back, picking him up and holding him, telling him everything would be all right… of Mother reappearing with him, smiling like she used to do before everything went wrong, starting with the letter from the sons of Fëanor. The appearance of that star had buried that fantasy. Father would never come for him. But he wasn't dead, he was just so far away… "Can he hear us? Does he know we are talking about him?"  
  
Elrond felt himself being pulled into a warm embrace. "I do not know. But I am sure that on nights like these, if you look at that star and think of him very hard, he will know it and think of you as well." ^^^  
  
Elladan and Elrohir were waiting for an answer, and the only one Elrond felt capable of giving was the one Gil-galad had given him. "I do not know. But I am sure that on nights like these, if you look at that star and think of him very hard, he will know it and think of you as well," he repeated, silently thanking Gil-galad for the answer, which had been exactly the right thing to say to a lonely half-elven child.  
  
They sat outside a while longer, each immersed in thought. Then a voice floated through the silence. "Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir? Please come in, it's getting cold out."  
  
Elrond smiled at the sound of the voice. "Coming, Celebrían!" he called back. "Let's go inside," he said to the twins as he took them by the hand and stood up.  
  
A short time later the clearing was empty and still save for the voices of crickets and birds. Far above the place the father and his sons had been sitting, an owl soared on night winds… and far above that, a man leaned against the prow of a ship, weeping unheard.  
  
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A/N: I hope you liked it, please review … if I get some nice reviews I may write Elrond's flashback from Gil-galad's pov, an idea that's playing around in my mind at the moment – I'm fascinated by the relationship between Elrond and Gil-galad. I know that Elrond should have gone to Maglos as a child, but I don't think I'm up to the challenge of describing Fëanor's son. So, slightly A/U. Also, I beg forgiveness for any other inconsistencies (not that there should be any as the fic is kind of short) as I haven't actually *read* the Silmarillion but have taken all my information on Elrond's childhood from Sil-based fanfics here…  
  
Translations from Sindarin/Quenya:  
  
Ada: daddy  
  
elen atarwa: as said, father's star (or should it be elen ataro? I'm not sure.) It's Quenya because a) I imagine they spoke Quenya as more than a formal language when Elrond was young b) if they didn't, young Elrond must have felt that he was giving his dad's star a "special" name by putting it in the old language and c) I don't speak Sindarin, but I've started learning Quenya.  
  
istyarinya piinëa: According to various sources and my own knowledge of Quenya grammar, this should be "my little scholar" – Gil-galad's nickname for Elrond, at least in this fic. I beg pardon for any grammatical mistakes I made.  
  
Hm… anything else that needs saying? Don't think so. 


	2. Ridiculous jealousy - Gil-galad's pov

Disclaimer: As said before, I own nothing. Nothing at all. I'm just borrowing everyone.  
  
A/N: This is Gil-galad's PoV, will write another one from Eärendil's perspective as well – thanks for the idea, for all of you who suggested that!  
  
First, thanks for all the nice reviews!  
  
Deborah: Thank you very much, I read your fics on Maglor and his relationship with Elros and Elrond and they're *very* good – one of the things that got me interested in Elrond's childhood, actually. I'll write a Maglor fic after this one, I guess… I just wasn't sure if I'd manage to describe his quite complex character. Also, the fic takes place only shortly after Eärendil appeared, and I doubt that Elrond would have trusted Maglor enough to ask him that question only shortly after he took the boys in – if Elrond ever did.  
  
Assembly of the Evenstar: *blush* thanks. However, it's my first *fan*fic, I write more original fiction and I read a *lot*…  
  
Nemis: Ah, so they could have stayed with Maglor before… good idea, I'll just have to see how I work the time with Maglor into Elrond's personality and Gil-galad's viewpoint. Maybe I'll just leave it AU, as I'm having enough trouble with the character introspection as it is… but thank you very much for the idea! :)  
  
So… on with the story!  
  
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Gil-galad walked outside, breathing in the sweet night air. It was a night like few others, the stars shining radiantly from the sky, not a cloud to be seen – a night to be enjoyed. It seemed he was alone outside, everyone else had gone to bed. It was late, after all.  
  
Looking around the elf realized that he was not alone, after all. A small figure sat beneath a tree, staring up at Eärendil who glowed brightly above. Elrond.  
  
Gil-galad walked over and sat down beside the young half-elf. "You should be in bed with your brother, istyarinya piinëa." Little scholar – what an apt name for the child. Elrond spent most of his time in the library, reading. Anything written down fascinated him, and Elrond had a good memory. He would become a great Master of Lore one day, Gil-galad was sure.  
  
"He's asleep," Elrond answered softly, high-pitched voice echoing in the silence. Gil-galad smiled – unseen by the youngster. He knew Elros was asleep, what with the fight he'd put up. Elros didn't want to go to bed, claiming he wasn't tired. When they finally caught him, though, he fell asleep almost as soon as he lay down – maybe the chase had exhausted him. It had exhausted the elven king as well. "I wanted to see Father," Elrond went on.  
  
That wiped the smile off his face, and forced him to ignore a stab of jealousy. He never knew exactly what to make of the young half-elf – quiet and withdrawn. He did know that Elrond missed his father terribly, although he couldn't have been able to remember him well – Gil-galad remembered Eärendil, and knew the father had spent more time with his ship than with his sons. He wished he could do something to ease the elder's sorrow. He nearly reached out to put an arm around Elrond's shoulders, but stopped himself. Elrond was not a very tactile person, preferring to be left alone. He sighed, thinking 'he is too young to bear such sorrow.'  
  
"You are right, Eärendil is bright tonight." It seemed a lame answer as soon as it left his mouth, stating the obvious. Elrond did not seem to notice, he kept staring at the star.  
  
They lapsed into silence for a short time, giving Gil-galad a chance to study the child next to him. Dark hair that framed a fair face, gray eyes looking heavenwards and pointed ears visible through his hair marked him clearly as Elven, but there was a roundness to his face, something in the shape of his eyes, that showed of his mortal ancestors. It was a face that would evoke curiosity or hostility among many of both Elves and Men, but Gil-galad had come to love the face and the person who bore it. Elrond and Elros were like his own sons to him, even if Elrond did not call him 'father'. Elros did not remember Eärendil, and Gil-galad was Ada to him, but his brother still stared heavenwards to a man who had not really cared for him when he was there, who'd left his family behind for the ocean time and time again. The stab of jealousy returned, stronger, and the elven king bit his lip. Being jealous of Eärendil was simply ridiculous, but Gil- galad couldn't help himself. He wished Elrond would see that he was trying to be a father to him, not simply the king who'd brought him and his brother out of the ruins of Sirion.  
  
Elrond's voice broke through his musings, and he looked around guiltily – had Elrond read his thoughts on his face? You never knew quite what to expect of that one. However, the young half-elf was still watching Eärendil, and what he said had nothing to do with what Gil-galad had been contemplating. "Can he hear us? Does he know we are talking about him?" the child's voice quivered.  
  
Before thinking about it, he reached over and pulled Elrond into his arms, surprised that the youngster didn't resist. Elrond had made it quite clear that he didn't like to be touched, but he needed the comfort now. Whether Eärendil was deserving of it or not, Elrond had lost his father and missed him terribly, clutching to the only strands of hope he had. To take away that last ray of hope, that his father could see him, would be an awful thing to do (A/N: the word 'inhumane' would fit well, but I don't think Gil- galad would think of it as 'inhumane', being a Noldor elf. 'Unelven' if anything.) "I do not know. But I am sure that on nights like these, if you look at that star and think of him very hard, he will know it and think of you as well," the king murmured to Elrond, speaking out the words that seemed to him to be the only fitting ones, to ease his loneliness. 'And to think Mother always said I wasn't capable of being diplomatic,' Gil-galad thought with a grim humor. He followed Elrond's gaze to his father's star, outwardly calm but innerly longing to hear a soft, high-pitched voice call him 'Father'.  
  
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A/N: Well, I guess that was it. As said before, istyarinya piinëa means "my little scholar" and Ada means "Daddy". So, what do you all think of Gil- galad's jealousy of Eärendil and wishing for Elrond to think of him as 'father'? I hope I haven't screwed it up – next comes Eärendil's POV and that will require even *more* character introspection. After that, I'll try a fanfic where Elrond first hears of what happens to his father (also from two or three points of view) and – for all of you Gil-galad fans out there – one where Elrond calls him 'father' for the first time… yay for Gil-galad although I still need to think of the situation.  
  
BTW, while writing the fic I realized that this may seem as though Gil- galad likes Elrond better than Elros, seeing as the latter isn't mentioned that often. This is not so, it is just that Elros – being a very little kid – has adapted very well to his surroundings and is happy. He doesn't remember his father or his mother (maybe his mother a bit). Elrond, as you see, is still very unhappy, and Gil-galad is worried about him. 


	3. Smiling through tears

Disclaimer: I hope you know by now. Nothing belongs to me, more's the pity.  
  
A/N: All right, here goes – Eärendil's pov. This one will probably be even more character introspection… One quick question from someone who hasn't read Sil yet – whatever happened to Elwing? I'll try to avoid the subject as I don't know, but is she on the ship with Eärendil, still a gull, in Valinor, in the Halls of Mandos, doesn't say,… ? And yes, I consider Elrond to be the eldest son. I suppose I got this from all of the Elrond-childhood fics I read, but Elrond has always struck me as the serious and responsible type…  
  
Once again, thank you all for the reviews :) – couldn't do it without them - or hantanyel as the Elves would have said (well, back in the Elder Days), I know, I'm obsessed with my Quenya! :-P  
  
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Far above the trees of the garden, a golden ship sailed through the night sky, gleaming in the breathtaking brilliance of the stars around it – and, of course, the light shining from the brow of the lone person aboard.  
  
Eärendil stared down. By rights it should have been too far, he shouldn't have been able to see anything, let alone hear what anyone was saying, yet somehow, whenever he listened, he could hear every word. 'Blessing, or curse, that I am able to observe what is going down in my old home, yet never participate?' he wondered. Would it have been worse to sail through eternity without knowing what was going on? Or was watching his friends, his family go about their lives not knowing of the lonely watcher, more of a torture than remaining ignorant?  
  
He'd watched as his youngest son had forgotten him, and that had caused him enough grief. But somehow what his eldest was going through tugged at his heart even more. How many nights had Elrond sat there, staring up at him without knowing that he could see him, tears forming in those large, sorrowful gray eyes? Somehow the situation struck Eärendil as ironic. He'd hardly ever seen his sons, before. He'd only be home for a short time, hug Elrond and Elros and marvel at how much they'd grown, give Elwing a kiss, and then be off again. The calling of his ship, of the sea, overrode any feelings for his family. And now that he would have what he had yearned for for the rest of time, he wanted nothing more than to be with his family. To take Elwing into his arms, to make Elrond smile again, to wake Elros' dormant memories. But that, which he had had but rejected, was now banned to him.  
  
A figure joined his son beneath the tree. "You should be in bed with your brother, istyarinya piinëa." The melodious elven voice sounded untroubled, teasing slightly, but there were undertones of worry. Eärendil sighed. Apparently Elrond spent the days in the library, holed up in some corner, reading some tome or another… books large enough to hide his face behind, corners obscure enough so that no one could hear his sobs. The father didn't really know what was the matter with his son. He hadn't been a good father, Elrond couldn't miss him that much. And he was loved and well cared for here, better than he'd been at home – the Silmaril had been growing upon Elwing's mind near the end, and he could imagine that the boys had felt neglected. No wonder that Elros had adapted to this place so quickly, and called Gil-galad Ada. But Elrond was troubled, and even the watcher, who'd seen the tears Elrond tried so hard to hide from others, didn't know why.  
  
Gil-galad. Eärendil envied him, almost more than he could bear. To be there, to speak with his son, to be able to ask him what was wrong… not that the child would answer… 'Stop it,' he thought, furious at himself. 'You don't deserve the love of your family, you only drove them away and caused them nothing but grief. Gil-galad loves the boys, he cares for them better than you ever have.' Yet he couldn't quite shake that lingering jealousy.  
  
"He's asleep," Elrond said softly. 'Ah… little one, always caring for your brother before yourself. Although I was not there to see it, I heard that when you were lost in the woods after Sirion's destruction, you willingly starved yourself so Elros would not go hungry. You have a large heart, my son. I hope it serves you well,' the man mused. "I wanted to see Father." Eärendil felt hot tears sliding down his cheek at the child's loyalty and love to one he could hardly remember. 'Who am I to deserve this affection?' he lamented silently.  
  
"You are right, Eärendil is bright tonight." The person so named saw Gil- galad beginning to reach out to the boy, then stopping. Why did he stop? Elrond needed the comfort… and Gil-galad was too willing to offer it. Eärendil had seen the expression on his face, looking at the boy when he thought no one was watching. A rip in a mask, giving view to many, confusing emotions, but love and worry were foremost among them. And a longing… Gil-galad wanted to take Eärendil's place as Elrond's father, as he already had with Elros – 'stop it, you're being jealous again,' he scolded himself.  
  
"Can he hear us? Does he know we are talking about him?" The question hit Eärendil like an arrow piercing his heart. He wished nothing more than to shout, "I am here! I am here, my son!" and have Elrond look up, a smile blossoming on his sad face… but he knew no one could hear him, he had tried before. Eärendil buried his head in his arms, stifling the sobs that threatened to overwhelm him and feeling hot tears soak through his sleeves. Then Gil-galad's answer floated to him through the stars.  
  
"I do not know. But I am sure that on nights like these, if you look at that star and think of him very hard, he will know it and think of you as well." In that instant, all of Eärendil's jealousy flew away. It would have been so easy for Gil-galad to pull Elrond away from the memories of his father, to show him that his old father was gone yet that a new father waited for him. But the elven king did not do that, he let Elrond keep his hope and maybe forfeited any chance of hearing him say "Father" to any but a bright point in the sky. It was a truly noble deed, one that Eärendil might not have been able to do in those circumstances. Now, although he could not be with his sons, Eärendil realized that they was in good hands. He would miss Elrond, he would miss Elros, but they were now with the best role-model he could imagine.  
  
"Thank you, Ereinion Gil-galad," Eärendil called, voice scratchy from disuse. He realized that there was no chance of it being heard, but somehow his heart prompted him to say the words. Eärendil looked down on the two figures, seeing that Gil-galad had pulled Elrond into his arms and that both were looking back at him. He smiled through his tears.  
  
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A/N: Now I know what it means to have a story write itself – I did *not* mean for it to turn out like that. It started turning into angst around midway (I was getting worried that Eärendil would start contemplating suicide, to be honest), I managed to save him in the end – I hope it's not too hastily done. It was just that Gil-galad's answer convinced Eärendil that this person was a very honorable one, and that his sons would be safe without him… I hope that came across. And the idea of Gil-galad being jealous of Eärendil and Eärendil jealous of Gil-galad is slightly bizarre, seeing as they both want the same thing!  
  
Also, it seems that Elrond's mental state is getting worse with every fic. I'd better write something happy to pull him out of it soon… a dream or so maybe. This whole thing is complicated by the fact that I truly have no idea *why* Elrond is so unhappy – another completely unplanned thing, and I hope I can come up with an answer to this question soon!  
  
Ada is still daddy, and istyarinya piinëa is still my little scholar. Not likely to change anytime soon.  
  
Please review, and I hope the *next* fic goes the way I plan it and doesn't take off and start doing strange things on its own! ;) 


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